


He's quite the knock out

by joouheika



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joouheika/pseuds/joouheika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi will be the only taker. He's the only one still standing. [modern age semi-mafia!AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's quite the knock out

**Author's Note:**

> request for "happy" levi/eren on tumblr

The first time Levi had seen that boy the boy had been standing looking up at the flashing advertisement board on one of the higher buildings. Something about perfume. From the thick humid summer heat a sick shockingly pink ice cream drips futilely about his fingers from the cone. He’d licked it up, that on his fingers not noticing that some had already dripped onto the front of his otherwise clean shirt. The sort of clean teenage boys consider.

Just another damn brat. Aside that and resisting the urge to smack a handkerchief over the boy’s mouth what had really caught Levi’s attention was the massive case strapped to this boy’s back.

He wondered what was in there.

But it’d been a passing thought.

A passing distraction.

In the moment.

—

Some other thugs who don’t like Levi roaming around their turf have deemed that since he’s without the rest of his gang he’s defenseless enough for them to take on. They are truly a bunch of idiots. He’d stopped down an alley to buy a drink from one of the vending machines, refusing to answer the text from that fucking cop Erwin that never seemed to get off his case about everything but always let him go. He wanted them to meet up to talk about some murder Levi has no damn fucking clue about and oh if Levi could pick him up some cigarettes. Fuck that and fuck Erwin, smoking is a disgusting dirty habit and he should quit.

Levi had just risen up from picking up the heated can of milk tea when cigarette smoke had been blown into his face by the leader of this sorry excuse lot that dared called themselves a gang.

Despite his nice suit (least nicer than their horrid attire), his tattoos still poked out from the sleeves round his wrists- and given the heat there’d been too many an occasion he’d removed his jacket and the tattoos could vaguely be seen through his shirts. He supposes with that and how among their kind they all shared a certain look. A scent. Like how wolves smelled different to each other and dogs.

They are all dogs.

While it was inevitable that it would be picked up upon he is from the underground, these dogs who cowered on the fringes to be so foolish to confront him said many things. They knew not who he really is. And they are stupid. That was not refutable.

Some discipline is in order when one of them smashes a hand over his shoulder, not daring to touch him yet, existing only as a “threat- it slams on the glass- leaning over him as he stands with his back to the vending machine, that hot drink still in hand. They surround him like the hungry pack of mongrels they are.

They are truly asking for a beating and Levi has no intention of doing anything but complying with this request, at the ready as finally a fist comes flying toward him.

It misses.

Not because he had blocked it.

An arrow had skimmed over across the knuckles of this fist. Blood now splattered against the vending machine and a little on the ground and thankfully none of it on him.

The attacker clutches his wrist swearing loudly as if to regain what fierceness he had not been displaying by the pitiful yelp they’d all heard when the arrow had cut through his hand.

Levi finally gets to see what had been in that massive case of that boy he’d seen days before.

A giant crimson bow.

Along with a quiver of arrows at his hip.

He sees this boy again.

His attire is that of the uniform of the high school nearby here. This area is a little sketchy for students but there is a popular arcade close to it. This boy had been delivering forgotten schoolwork to a classmate who often played in the arcades. This boy while he likes games, and hanging with his friends, loves archery much more.

“What are you all doing? Teaming up against one single person?! How unfair!”

That and playing hero.

Levi is almost completely forgotten as a great mass of them hurtle themselves towards this boy. Many are pinned back with a rapid assault of arrows. Held down by the edges of their clothes or being cut through upon their skin.

Levi watches in the dark of the alleyway that the precision of these hits lies within the fierce gold of this young boy’s eyes. What he does not see, what error is to be had is made up by intensity and when a few of these violence seeking hooligans finally manage to make it to him and his quiver be empty Levi is surprised to see him calmly disarm and those that would have hit him are thrown onto their backs, their own weight used against them. Hefted by the missing reach of an arm or thrown aside with a jab to the ribs and chin.

The rest that have not managed to do fuck anything Levi figures he could take some precautions over. He doesn’t want to be interrupted after all.

After taking the rest that’d remained in the back down- a pile of bleeding, bruised bodies are mercilessly stepped upon as Levi makes his way forth, the struggling few that this boy is now sweating to fend off with his still developing hand to hand combat skills having revealed his moves and needing to protect his bow- crumple at the slightest hit, to the back of the neck, to the gut, a kick to the shin then the throat. Levi doesn’t spare so much as a glance to them. Fixated upon one point.

Levi with a hand in his pocket the whole time, the other still holding the milk tea (the can a little dented now, this is amazing tin) steps in front of the now crouching high school boy, his breathing labored. Sweat drips down his neck now onto his shirt.

“Not bad. Your name?”

After regaining some of his breath, it’s still through panting Levi is told-

“Eren. It’s Eren Yeager sir.”

A polite kid.

Levi holds up the can of milk tea to Eren.

“Hey. Eren. You wanna drink this?”

Eren accepts a little confusedly before popping the tab back and drinking, almost choking- exclaiming in surprise. The can had been warm so Levi didn’t know what Eren had been expecting. Too polite a kid, didn't his mother teach him not to accept stuff from strangers?

“Hot tea?! It may not be summer anymore but it’s not cold out yet!”

“I don’t let the seasons decide when and what I want to fucking drink you brat.”

Despite that complaint Eren has drunk most of the tea.

“…sorry did you want any?”

Levi makes a face.

“It’s yours. I’ll get myself something else.”

Eren scrunches up his nose as if to say if Levi wanted to give him a drink shouldn’t he had let him choose in the first place?

When he’s done drinking he crumples up the can and throws it to the bin by the vending machine. It misses and hits one of the knocked out thugs.

Levi goes to pick it up and put it in the bin.

He’s looking over the options of the vending machine trying to decide if he wants the same thing. Decides why not. Places the money in but before he can press the button another button is pressed and what comes out is-

“Strawberry milk?”

Eren reaches into the vending machine and pulls the sweet drink out. Holding it to Levi. Tells him.

“It’s my recommendation.”

Glances over the beaten thugs.

“Though I hardly think you need stronger bones.”

Levi accepts the drink.

“Uhm, what is your name sir?”

Levi had managed to punch the bendy straw into the box without smashing the carton. A total success.

“Ah? You wanna know that?”

“I do. Since you know mine.”

A total brat.

This was just the sort of thing kids do. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Levi could show so much to Eren.

“It’s Levi.”

Eren looks a little perplexed at being given only a first name. Or is it a last name? He doesn’t know… he doesn’t ask.

“Well… Mr Levi it looks like you did not need my assistance, please excuse me for butting in.”

Eren nearly turns to leave but is startled by Levi's sudden loud slurping. Levi doesn't often drink with a straw. This is one of the reasons. Levi almost wants to laugh at Eren’s stunned face that he is actually drinking the strawberry milk. It is far too fucking sweet. So this brat likes sweet things?

“Not at all. I got to see something pretty interesting. It alright if I call you up should I need someone to shoot a guy?”

Eren looks a little puzzled at this but also somewhat flattered.

“I shot more than one guy.”

Levi pulls the straw from his mouth and regards Eren with a glare.

“No sir or mister this time? How quickly this is progressing. I’ll be sure to rely on you from now on Eren.”

Levi takes out the most ancient cell phone Eren has ever seen and flipping it open, insists they exchange numbers.

And that is how Eren started hanging out with the leader of the most feared mafia in all the country.

—

Erd glances to Guther, daring him to ask. If anyone would say anything it’d be Petra but she’s out at the moment picking up the dry cleaning and they knew, with the plain box of milk in hand that Auruo sure as hell isn’t going to ask.

But lately instead of beer or ice tea… that which had been steadily taking up the shelves of their fridge is strawberry milk…. wondering whose this could be they’d all nearly had a heart attack the first time they’d seen Levi drink it.

One day Levi brings a high school boy to their headquarters. They see them walk down the pathway, nearing the doors. As this boy speaks with Levi he swings about a can of half drunk milk tea and no explanation is needed.


End file.
